


Boredom and Regulars

by MageArc



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageArc/pseuds/MageArc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver has been having trouble with his business and bringing in prospective customers, yet there's always this rather odd patron who comes in everyday, but never says a word. Although, Today this changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boredom and Regulars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hybridempress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybridempress/gifts).



It felt like any other day, just as bland and as boring as the rest. The shop was slow and quite frankly, Oliver wasn’t sure if his business would be able to stay afloat if it kept going on like this. The poor man only had about 10 customers a day and none of them stayed for very long. He tried to be nice and inviting but it felt terrible since profits were so low. Honestly, how was he supposed to act in the face of such bitter disappointment?

Though, there was this one regular that came in every day and stayed for an hour or two. He looked a tad rough around the edges and was just overall unwelcoming in the way he held himself. Oddly enough, Oliver found he liked it quite a lot. The way this man talked was in stark contrast to Oliver’s own tone of voice and personality. He used quite a bit of profanity as well, although once Oliver had asked him to stop, he did, so perhaps he was more than just your standard rascal.

Nevertheless, here was Oliver seated behind the counter of his shop, slumped over and practically asleep. He hated seeming so down but it was no falsity that he was lately. His mind swam with worst possible scenarios; going bankrupt, having to close down the bakery, the usual. It was all so very stressful, and the humidity combined with the heat wasn’t exactly fun either. Oliver found himself sweating and sticky which positively disgusted him.

However, his posture straightened as soon as he heard the bell to his store twinkle. A tall man with dark hair strode into the shop, an ever-present scowl plastered on his face. This was that odd patron who came in everyday, his eyes ablaze with a certain emotion that Oliver couldn’t exactly place. It was always somewhat uncomfortable whenever he came in, just because of his sour disposition.

Today, he looked different.

The man walked confidently to the counter and stared at Oliver for a couple of seconds before he opened his mouth to speak. Oliver watched him as he spoke. “I’d like one of those cookies with the frosting you got.” His accent sounded like he was from Boston or something, which was quite aways from where they resided. This only proved to make Oliver’s curiosity heighten.

Oliver stood up, the corners of his mouth turning up into the small grin that most people were accustomed to seeing on him. “Straight away,” he said sweetly, reaching beneath the glass of the counter and pulling out a cookie and placing it in a pastel pink bag. He brought out a thin black ribbon and tied the bag securely, a petite bow in place. “That’ll be one dollar and 50 cents.”

The man pulled out his wallet and took out the exact change, placing it into Oliver’s hand which was outstretched. God, he needed money badly but never would he ever raise his prices to the point of being unbearable. That was his rule, after all.

Oliver handed over the bag and walked to the cash register, recording the total and placing it inside. But… the man hadn’t sat down like he usually did. Oliver looked over curiously at him. He was still standing where he had been, although a cookie in his hand as he took a bite out of it. “These are really good,” he said quietly.

Oliver brushed a piece of hair out of his face. “Oh, thank you. I work very hard preparing them fresh everyday.”

The man looked surprised for a moment. “Do you do all of it by yourself or somethin’?”

“Oh- yes,” He nodded. “Quite the challenge but I figure I should at least serve my customers the best.”

The other looked around the empty shop, shoving another piece of cookie into his mouth before focusing his gaze on Oliver again. “...Customers?”

“I-” Oliver paused, his expression quickly turning to something more crestfallen. “-Business isn’t exactly… peaches and cream lately.”

There was a hum. “Can’t see why. You’ve got amazing sweets, almost as sweet as you,” the man smirked at him. It was cocky and self-assured. How frustrating. Nevertheless, the small Englishman flushed a light pink that matched his hair. The other man seemed very entertained by this display. “My name’s Allen, by the way.”

Finally, a name to the customer that had been coming in for so long and buying up his shop in the process. Thank God for that. “Mine’s Oliver,” he stated, a smile on his face, “And thank you… for your compliment.”

Allen smirked. “I’m not really a people person, but honestly, I could make an exception for you,” he winked, moving towards the till. It was obvious what his intentions with that tidbit of information were, and it really didn’t bother Oliver like the Englishman had anticipated it would. Unfortunately though, Oliver really didn’t know how to respond, so he just kneaded his hands into the pink and blue apron secured around his waist. Allan took notice of this, looking down and then back up again. “Do I got you nervous?”

“N-no, not nervous, I just-” Oliver took in a breath before finally speaking clearly. “Do you honestly like my goods or do you just come here to eye me up?” He sounded like an outraged suburban mother.

Allen's eyes widened and he leaned closer. “Why can’t I have the best of both worlds, sweetheart?”

Now, it’d be a lie if Oliver were to say he disliked this conversation. No, he actually found himself liking it, savoring it even. It felt the right mix of wrong and right. He swallowed and replied, “I suppose that you could have both, but why have you just started speaking to me now as opposed to when we first met?”

“Gotta establish some sort of relationship or normalcy,” Allen shrugged.

Did that mean he was only here everyday so that Oliver could get used to him? That he was here so that Oliver would like him more? The Briton practically squeaked at the remark, covering his face with flour-coated hands. “Are you like this all of the time?”

“No, usually I just don’t talk to people,” he stood a bit straighter this time, “but you’re really cute. How could I pass this up?”

“W-well, if you put it that way,” Oliver looked off to the side, at the floor, anywhere that wasn’t Allen. Oh, this surely was quite a predicament. He would gladly accept Allen’s invitation on a date or even kissing him would be nice. The Brit had to admit that the American was handsome, ruggedly so, and his features were angular and strong. The way his jacket clung to him was nothing short of attractive, and he really didn’t know what to do with that. “What are your intentions… with all of this flirting?”

Allen looked up for a second, gathering his thoughts. He pushed his aviator’s down onto his nose, as if to create some sort of dramatic effect. This man was a bit humorous even if he didn’t intend for that to be the case. “Maybe we could go on a date,” he gently grasped Oliver’s hand and pulled the man from behind the register so that they were closer and not speaking with a surface between them. “Or,” he lifted his glasses so that they perched atop his hair, “If you’re comfortable we could always…” he trailed off, but Oliver definitely got his meaning.

Though, Oliver didn’t push him away, nearly raising his shoulders a touch and looking down with a bashful expression. “I don’t think we should- um- do _that_ quite yet,” he said nervously. “A date,” he perked up now, “That’d be better. We could, well, get to know one another.”

Allen, for the first time, showed a genuine smile. It was warm and inviting, much unlike the man’s personality. “Great…” He squeezed Oliver’s hand before letting go. “I can pick you up,” he paused. “That is, if you’re okay with riding on a motorcycle.”

Oliver’s heart skipped a beat and his face flushed a supreme red. “O-oh, you ride motorcycles?” Allen nodded. “I wouldn’t,” he bit his lip. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Oh God. This man could never know his weird attraction for men on motorbikes. That explained the leather jacket, at least. “What kind is it?”

“BMW,” Allen said with a smirk. “I saved up a lot of money for it. I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh, yes,” he breathed, “I think I’ll like it very much.” What was better than this? Not only was Allen a biker, but he also got to wrap his arms around him when they rode. Dear lord, how could this get any better.

Allen raised an eyebrow at him. This guy sure was strange, but he was adorable and had a cute personality to match his innocent features. He was definitely Allen’s type, but this guy seemed different. “So, what time is good for you?”

“Oh! After the shop closes would be grand. Seven?”

“Perfect.”

Oliver blushed once more, the heat prickling his cheeks. “You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be back by seven, don’t worry.” Oliver nodded, and before the man turned to leave, Oliver grabbed his hand. “What is it?”

“Just one moment,” Oliver said, standing on the tips of his toes so he could place a soft peck on the man’s cheek. It was now Allen’s turn to flush a mighty red color. Oh, it looked so endearing on his features. For a second, the American let two fingers graze his own cheek, still a bit taken away by Oliver’s move.

“Well, I-” Allen stopped for a second, his face contorting into embarrassment. “Sorry, this, um, doesn’t usually, well, happen.” He closed his eyes and let out a sigh before leaning down to kiss the man’s forehead gently. “D-don’t tell anyone I did that,” He warned with a stutter, voice wavering a bit at the end.

This man was definitely all bark and no bite. How adorable, Oliver thought. A smirk graced the Englishman’s features. “Whatever you say,” he practically whispered. This only served to make Allen blush again. He looked so dumbfounded.

“People don’t usually have this effect on me,” he said.

“Well, I do,” Oliver smiled.

“Yeah,” Allen let out a nervous sigh before shaking his head. The same emotionless expression from before plastering itself on his face like a sort of defense. “I’ll see you at seven then,” he murmured, waving as he walked away.

“See you,” Oliver said in a sing-song tone as the man walked out of his humble shop.

He certainly was cute. Maybe one of the cutest men he’d ever met. Oliver knew he would be a difficult person in terms of trying to get him to open up emotionally, but perhaps this man was worth it. A content smile graced Oliver’s features and he felt himself give into daydreaming about their date. There was no sort of plan, only a set time, so it could be nothing short of an adventure.

He was excited for the first time in a long while.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for my friend Rose and unfortunately I'm not really up to date with the 2P's personalities, although I know that a majority is up to interpretation! This was fun though, I have to admit.


End file.
